Needful Things
by kdzl
Summary: So much to do, so little time. Will the team discover JJ's secret before its too late?
1. Chapter 1

_**An/Written in response to **femvamp's** "good guys as bad guys" challenge. Hope you like it! I'm pretty pleased with it. **_

**_Regular disclaimers apply._**

* * *

She grinned as she spotted the small article in the local paper. _Local Man Dies Under Suspicious Circumstances._ It wasn't anything, nothing more than a small blurb, but it was enough. Enough that she felt a surge of pride at another completed masterpiece.

Sipping her coffee she pulled out a small set of scissors and carefully clipped out the article.

Gideon had told her once that all sociopaths will either have contact with their victims, or have contact with the media. One or the other. Looking at the article in her hand, she smirked at the realization that he didn't know sociopaths as well as he thought he did.

Or maybe he did. Because, as she thought about it, she supposed she had contact with the media on a daily basis. Just because she wasn't stupid enough to flaunt her work in front of the world for all to see didn't mean that she wasn't dangerous.

Because if she knew one thing for certain, it was that she was dangerous.

And a sociopath, but really, who was keeping track?

Her buzzing phone snapped her out of her self-assuring monologue. "Agent Jareau."


	2. Chapter 2

_**An/Written in response to **femvamp's** "good guys as bad guys" challenge. Hope you like it! I'm pretty pleased with it. Yes, this is my idea of what JJ's secret could be, though I know it probably isn't.**_

**_Regular disclaimers apply._**

* * *

JJ sighed as she ended yet another phone call with Will, groaning as she placed her phone back onto its regular place on her desk. None of this was meant to happen. She wasn't supposed to be a mother, or a girlfriend for that matter. She didn't have a single motherly bone in her body.

Let alone a compassionate bone in her body, but that was a story for another day.

Will was supposed to be a short lived distraction. A distraction that alleviated her coworkers' concerns about her personal life. It wouldn't due to have them meddle in her private matters—because killing a Federal Agent would be messy. Not that she hadn't done it before, but it was best to keep a low profile.

_Ha!_ She smiled at her own joke. _Low profile!_

"Jayje, it's almost time for the briefing." Emily alerted her, knocking softly on the frame of the wide door, assuming that she had once again become consumed with work.

"I'll be right there." JJ smiled assuringly, rolling her eyes at the absurdity that she could forget a regularly scheduled meeting.

Grabbing the case files in front of her, JJ's eyes fell on a picture of her "perfect little family". When she discovered she had been impregnated, she wondered if she would be able to continue to hide her inability (or maybe it was her unwillingness) to empathise with others.

Luckily for her, all of the dysfunctional family back story was located in her file, giving her the perfect excuse should she ever need to use it. She knew none of her coworkers would dig that deep into her past—they trusted her too much for that. But it at least gave her a launching board for the whole "New Parent Jitters" Angle she had been playing for a while. She knew Hotch had read her file, and though he had never said anything, she knew he tried to keep her out of the field when it got particularly gory or violent.

Sure, she could understand that, but it still frustrated her to no end—barring her from picking up new techniques and 'tricks of the trade.' But Hotch's concern for her was primarily for her 'protection'—because, as he believed, not every child from a small town with a cheating drunk father turns out to be a scarred-for-life serial killer.

In fact, Spence told her once that it was only 1/8 victims of abuse that became violent themselves.

So she was in the minority.

Lucky her.

"Jayje?" Morgan asked, stopping by her office. "Hotch sent me to come get you. The briefing."

"Right." She reminded herself, scolding herself slightly for bringing her after hours life to the workplace. That was the type of habit that got those who were sloppy caught.

And Jennifer Jareau was _never_ sloppy.

He gave her a sidelong smirk, "Good weekend?" He asked knowingly.

She laughed and blushed appropriately. "None of your business." She replied coyly then turned on the innocent 'JJ Act' she had been perfecting for years. "But for your information, _yes_, it was a very good weekend."

Derek laughed heartily as they made their way to the BAU War Room, not knowing what her definition of a good time really was.

And if JJ ever had her way, he never would.

* * *

She stared longingly out the window of the jet as the team traveled to Jackson, Mississippi for a serial rapist. Sometimes, she wondered how she'd been able to keep this up for so long. But in the end, she knew it all boiled down to one reason—control.

And control was something she had mastered.

Control was something that had been ingrained in her at an early age. She still remembered being punished for not making her bed to the correct specifications. Her father's military background and rigid rules for his family had only grown worse after her sister's suicide. Those rules had taught her how to mask any emotions she felt, to hide the fear and pain each time he came home drunk, and to control the pang of sorrow she felt as she grew up without the older sister that had been her protector. As long as she was in control, nothing could hurt her.

Unfortunately, as a child, her control hadn't been perfected.

As a child, it shouldn't have had to be perfect-but apparently her father didn't think so. Because any loss of her stoic mask, any expression of emotion—heaven forbid tears—usually led to being beaten within an inch of her life.

Good thing her father was the Chief of Police, otherwise, someone might have cared-instead they chose to care about which local tramp her father would sleep with next.

"Jayje?" Reid asked softly as he sat down next to her, "Is everything okay?" JJ smiled up at him. In another life, maybe Spence could have worked with her—they could have been partners. He always had a homicidal air about him, but Spence had a good heart despite an upbringing that should have pushed him to join her in her crusade.

Thinking quickly, she decided it was best to play vulnerable, "Yeah." She sighed exaggeratedly, "It's just—I don't know, it's stupid."

Reid continued to stare at her as if he were waiting for her to reluctantly open up to him. She felt a rush of adrenalin as she once again deceived those who thought they were the closest to her.

"What is it?" He asked again.

"Rape cases, those poor women." She stated despite the fact she felt nothing inside. They were just words-words were something she was good at. Words could manipulate, deceive, detract, and delude.

"It's alright." He comforted, patting her gently on the knee. "We all have cases that get under our skin."

"Yeah, I know." She sighed, her voice filled with derision, "But it just never gets easier, you know?"

Reid nodded, feeling a swell of accomplishment that he had comforted his friend. "I'm here if you want to talk." He felt the urge to pat himself on the back at the grateful look she offered him.

"I know." She offered him a small smile to let him feel her appreciation.

Groaning inwardly, she debated whether her performance was too much, or not enough. Each time she walked into the BAU—brightest minds in the world—she felt a rush of excitement at the knowledge that not only had she avoided capture for nearly fifteen years, but that she wasn't even on their radar. Maybe, she reasoned, they hadn't caught on to her mission because it was the right thing to do.

But lately, that rush was losing its intensity. Maybe it was time, time to give the team her case and see if they could solve it.

She would have to think about it more, because the entire point would be that she give them the case only for it to go unsolved.

After all, she hadn't been doing this for years just to get caught.


	3. Chapter 3

_**An/Written in response to **femvamp's**"good guys as bad guys" challenge. Hope you like it! I'm pretty pleased with it. Yes, this is my idea of what JJ's secret could be, though I know it probably wasn't. Despite the fact that her "backstory" (if you can call that a backstory) was given the previous episode, I'm going to continue on with this theme.**_

**_Regular disclaimers apply._**

* * *

"JJ, can I see you in the conference room? I just had a case come across my desk." Hotch peeked through her door and was gone before she had a chance to respond.

Stifling a groan, she rolled her eyes and stood. Whenever Hotch picked cases himself, she couldn't help but feel undermined. Her ability to control her surroundings was something that she prided herself on--and though she respected Aaron Hotchner, she couldn't help the momentary flash of vengeance she felt every time he interrupted the usual 'case-selection' method.

"Woah there Powder Puff." Penelope stopped her from behind. "Where do you think you're going?"

JJ rubbed her temple, trying to fight the annoyance that rippled through her. Normally, she enjoyed Penelope's eccentric and eclectic personality. But spending the _'romantic' _weekend with her fiance without any opportunity to find the release she needed was wearing on her last nerve. "The conference room." She settled on honesty, "Can't this wait?"

Garcia's face was filled with sympathy. "Jayje, you don't have to go on pretending, I know what today is."

_Today?_ The thought raced through her mind as she tried to place the significance of the date to Garcia. She knew it was her own special anniversary, but Garcia must think--_Oh. _Her eyes widened in surprise and she had to fight momentarilly to stop the smirk from forming. "Yeah, its a tough day." She smiled tightly hoping that her friend would take it as a sign of bravery.

"I'd say." Penelope's compassion was almost tangible, and JJ wondered--not for the first time--what it would be to feel that type of emotion.

The world may never know.

It was one reason that her friendship with the ecclectic blonde continued. JJ's curiosity grew each time she witnessed the other woman's overt displays of emotion.

Maybe if things had been different---

Noticing her friend's withdrawl, Garcia talked faster as if to retroactively fill the silence. "I mean, its _February 15._ The day of your father's--"

"I know." JJ cut her off, not wanting to bring up one of the finest masterpieces she'd ever created. At least, not here. Not now. Not where she couldn't glory in the success of her most important kill. Tonight when she was in the confines of her own home, she could relive the experience over and over in her mind.

The day that she finally gained complete control.

* * *

"Virginia State Police needs our help." Hotch announced passing JJ and Garcia each their own folder with the information. JJ fought a grimace as she looked at Hotch's files, slightly annoyed by his inability to arrange the case file correctly. Her annoyance quickly dissipated once she saw the photograph of the "first" victim. "Over the last six years, they have had twenty unsolved murders with a similar pattern."

"Are you kidding me?" Morgan looked up from the file, having read ahead, "They think these are all connected?"

Hotch nodded. "Allen Grant, the Chief of Detectives was on SWAT with me years ago. He gave me a call last night."

"Victimology is all over the place." Emily pointed out.

"Each victim was killed differently." Reid added.

"What makes them think they're all related?" Morgan asked. "It seems to me that they're looking for connections that aren't there." JJ remained quiet, reading carefully through the file in front of her. Had the profilers watched her carefully, they would have noticed the small smile that graced her lips.

But they were focused on more important things.

Rossi nodded, agreeing with Morgan, but waited for Hotch to respond. "This." Hotch pointed to a picture of the victim, focusing in on a small Roman Numeral etched into the skin just behind the ear.

Morgan whisteled softly "They've been marked."

"Numbered." Hotch corrected softly.

Rereading the file quickly, Reid looked up. "But none of the numbers are consecutive. 5, 18, 21, 23, 34..." He listed off the numbers quickly. "So either its a pattern--"

"Or we're looking for a lot more victims." Emily finished the sentence for him.

"It's local, so Garcia be ready to be on call. Start running searches for victims in surrounding states." He commanded before turning to the others. "Leaving in 20." Hotch informed the group who all nodded in agreement. This looked like it was going to be a bad one.

JJ grinned inwardly as she gathered the files in front of her. Maybe this was just the boost of excitement she was looking for.


	4. Chapter 4

_**An/Written in response to **femvamp's**"good guys as bad guys" challenge. Let me know what you think.**_

**_Regular disclaimers apply._**

* * *

_"Mom, we're out of bread." She tentatively explained, anticipating the emotional onslaught that would likely follow. But SOMEONE needed to go shopping, and not only were the pantries bare, but the last of the food in the refrigerator was gone. She needed to say something._

_"You don't need anything." Her mother retorted quickly. "Not with all that weight you've put on."_

_She remained quiet, not bothering to acknowledge her mother's insult. Acknowledgements usually only served to make matters worse. "I just thought you'd want to--"_

_"Well, I don't." Her mother quipped before going back to reading the newspaper._

_She raised her eyebrows in surprise. That exchange went far better than she had anticipated. Her joy, however, was cut short when she heard the front door open and slam shut._

"JJ?" She jerked involuntarially, surprised to see the entire team looking at her.

Rubbing her eyes quickly, she inwardly winced as she realized she must have fallen asleep in the car. "We're here?"

"Are you okay?" Emily asked, her eyes full of concern as she ignored JJ's question completely.

"Of course," She laughed lightly, mentally cursing herself for showing any sign of weakness. Weaknesses were sloppy, and unless she was using them to decieve someone else, she had to be careful. "I'm fine." She assured the others.

Emily nodded warily, and JJ couldn't shake the feeling that the older woman didn't believe her in the slightest. The others dissipated while Hotch lingered, his own concern radiating from him in waves. "If this case is too difficult--" He started as she got out of the car.

"Hotch, I want to be here." She insisted, rolling her eyes inwardly at his protectiveness. She had been through too much in her life to simply roll over and let someone help her.

Because if life had taught her anything, it was that in reality, no one cared.

Sure, Hotch was a friend and he was different from most people, but deep down he was the same as the people she hunted. Just maybe, he wasn't as bad to be deserving of her retribution.

She could see the hesitance in his eyes and steeled herself to look into his dark brown orbs. "Hotch. I'm fine." She restated.

Sighing, he relented. "If this case gets to be too much for you, let me know."

"Oh, I will." She promised, knowing that no matter what she would never voluntarily admit weakness.

Because above all, she was in control.

* * *

"Garcia, what do you have for us?" Emily asked once the team got situated in the precinct conference room.

The happy tech came across the phone "I've compiled a list of cases. It's all still coming together, though."

"What do we know so far?" Hotch pressed. There wasn't time for pleasantries.

"I've got cases from all over the country, so I'm still going through. Right now, I've found five more victims. Phoenix, LA, the French Quarter in New Orleans, Miami...it's a lot to go through, sir."

"Let us know when you have more." Hotch said crisply.

"We've got a mission based killer." Rossi surmised quickly.

"But most of the victims are white-collar workers. Typically 'house cleaners' and other mission based killers focus on prostitutes and the homeless." Emily shook her head in confusion. "Victimology doesn't tell us much. Most of the victims were white, but we've also got a few black vics and three hispanics."

"David Malone was asian." Reid added.

"Which means though its not definitive, he's probably white." Morgan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Why?" JJ asked innocently.

"Whites are more likely to cross racial barriers than other racial groups." Reid answered without looking up from the file he was speed reading.

"So what does that tell us about the UnSub?" JJ asked curiously, trying to avoid coming across the way Gideon used to like he was trying to coax the team into discovering an answer he already knew. It wouldn't bode well if the team knew she could easily identify the killer.

"It could be he is trying to recreate an event in his childhood." Emily mused aloud. "Seeing as most of the victims had white collar jobs, I think it's safe to say our UnSub is from the upper middle class." The others nodded and turned back to the information in front of them.

"The victims' ages aren't consistent with a specific type." Hotch pointed out. "But if he's been at this for six years..."

"It puts his age at anywhere from 25-45." Derek groaned, he was hoping that the others would have been farther along after processing the basic details of the case.

"But look at these victims." Morgan commanded, thumbing through the files that he had studied. "Sally Tate had self defense training. Brian Denkla played hockey recreationally. This guy would have to be pretty strong to gain control of the victims this way."

Dave blew out his breath in disgust. "But look at the different methods this UnSub's used. Charles Anderson was eviscerated, Stephanie Hanson was shot..." He trailed off, looking through the other files.

"He's focused on the male victims." Reid spoke up.

"You're sure?" JJ asked, looking down at her blackberry.

Spencer nodded. "Thirteen of the victims we have are male. Here's just a couple of their causes of death: strangulation, evisceration, drowning. Now listen to the females, again, just a couple: single gunshot to the back of the head, sliced corotid artery."

"The women suffer quick deaths. The men suffer." Rossi nodded in agreement. "He's punishing the men, but the women aren't totally innocent."

JJ smirked thoughtfully. She had never thought she had a pattern, but now it did seem quite obvious.

"JJ, release to the press that we're looking for a white male 25-40 in a professional job." Hotch commanded. "The rest of us will divide up and check out the last two crime scenes, maybe he'll get sloppy.

Nodding, she stood. At least the team had gotten a couple of things right.

But she was probably going to have to help them along.

This was going to be fun.


	5. Chapter 5

_**An/Ok, I have been crazy busy lately, but I had a free night and decided to reward my faithful readers. I don't know if anyone's still following these stories, but I LOATHE leaving stories unfinished. **_**_Regular disclaimers apply._**

**_I'm intentionally trying to make all of these chapters longer and more rewarding than previous---so hopefully that makes up for the long delay._**

**_PS. Check out the JJ/Hotch fanfic forum. I've got a new set of prompts for anyone that wants to participate and write a little fluff. Even if not, there's a chance for you to vote for your favorite March Madness Story, so please check it out :)_**

* * *

JJ sighed as she got off the phone with the last local reporter. Craning her neck, she cursed the vultures that did everything possible to make her life more difficult. "Why can't they just leave this all alone?" She groaned aloud.

But then, getting away with it would not be nearly as rewarding.

Staring out the window, she couldn't help but let her thoughts drift back to the most defining moment of her life. The day everything changed.

___Glancing out the window to see the bright sun and beautiful scenery mocking the horror that occured inside her own home, JJ shook her head sadly. It was if the woods and world outside was attempting to compensate for the disfunctional family that lived inside her home._

_JJ winced as she reached up to try to brush her hair. Her ribs flamed with pain from her encounter with her father the day before. The back of her head was still sore from--she shook her head, vowing not to dwell on the details of what had happened._

_Slipping on her shirt, she couldn't help but feel grateful that no one would ever see the bruises that lay beneath her shirt. _

_If there was one thing she never wanted, never needed, it was pity. D__eep down, really deep down, she wondered what it would feel like to have someone that cared._

_But if life had taught her anything, it was that no one cared._

_And no one ever would._

_She pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail, checking herself once in the mirror to ensure she was presentable. Descending the stairs, she felt the familiar tension that seemed to always be present. But this time, something was different. Sniffling in the kitchen caused her to whip around to a sight she never thought possible._

_"Brady? What's wrong?" She asked her little brother--her father's pride and joy--who tried in vain to hide the split lip and the bright red mark on his face._

_"What's wrong is the little Maggot got in his father's way." Her mother slurred from the other room, not moving from her position in front of the television._

_JJ's heart sank as she realized what had happened. In that instant, the world became incredibly clear as she realized her life's calling. Something needed to be done, and if no one else would do it, she would. _

_Some things in life were needful._

_"Where is he?" She asked, not bothering to push her brother for an explanation. This had gone far enough._

_"Outside." Brady sniffed, trying to mask his tears. "In the barn. I didn't mean to make him mad, Jenny. I promise, I--"_

_"Just finish getting ready for school buddy, we'll leave in a couple of minutes." She instructed her brother quickly, easily controling the rage she felt boiling at the surface. _

_Quietly surveying her options as she approached the old barn, she easily saw the key to her freedom gleaming in the sunlight. _

_Picking up the ax that before had always felt so heavy, she felt a surge of joy._

_Happiness had never seemed so close._

_Maybe one day, she could have a normal life._

_But first, there was something she needed to do._

"JJ?" Rossi looked at her questioningly. From the look on his face, she realized she must have been staring off for quite some time.

Smirking slightly, she allowed herself to blush. "Sorry." She murmured. "What do you need?"

Rossi nodded, apparently deciding that her disconnection with reality was not anything to be overly concerned with. "I was just about to go over to see the last victim's family. I was wondering if you'd come with me.

Shrugging slightly, JJ beamed inwardly at the ability to see what her life's work had accomplished. "Sure."

"Let's go."

* * *

"Is there anything I can get you? Like a cup of coffee?" The diminuitive woman, Alice Gates, quickly ushered them in and smiled brightly. "Please, I've got tea, coffee, juice, wine, beer--"

"Just water for me." JJ smiled politely.

"I'm fine." Dave said curiously, studiously eyeing the woman to give any clue to her odd behavior. This woman had just lost her husband. Things weren't adding up. David Rossi had met with countless victims' families throughout his career. He didn't get to be the most legendary profiler in the FBI by avoiding the families. But this was unlike anything he had ever seen before. And there was only one word to describe it---_relief_. "This is odd." He whispered out of the side of his mouth.

"What do you mean?" JJ asked softly.

"I mean, where's the grief? why isn't she--?"

"Mourning the loss of my bastard husband?" Alice Gates scoffed as she reentered the main room. "Maybe because whoever killed him saved my life."

"Excuse me?" JJ asked, smiling inwardly--outwardly, she had no difficulty maintaining her stoic, even shocked, mask.

"You heard me. Jack beat me daily. He was an abusive bastard, and he deserved what he got." Alice bit out angrily, sipping the tea in front of her.

"Ms. Gates, if you don't mind, could you tell us what you were the night Jack disappeared?" Rossi asked in surprise. He hadn't expected to have a viable suspect so quickly, but the battered wife was quite a suspect.

"You think I killed Jack?" Alice scoffed. "Don't get me wrong, I thought about it. But I could never go through with it."

"Why is that?" JJ asked genuinely curious. It was very seldom she got the chance to be on this side of her life's work.

"I thought that my children needed a father." Alice shrugged. "Now that he's gone, I realize that while they needed a father, they needed Jack even less."

"Ma'am? Last Tuesday? Where were you?" Dave pushed further.

"At work. I had to pull a 24 hour shift. I'm a nurse." She said smartly. "And before you ask, I can get you a list of all the people that saw me working throughout my shifts. You know, just to verify."

"That'd be great." JJ smiled, grateful that she had long ago realized the importance of weeding out the main suspects and ensuring they had an alibi.

After all, it'd be a shame for someone else to get credit for her work.

* * *

Something nagged at the back of Garcia's mind. This all felt too familiar.

Bloody, greusome murders.

With a number carved behind the ear.

Where had she seen this before?

It wasn't like her to forget the gross things she had to see on a daily basis, but this--this felt important.

And she couldn't help but feel like if she could just remember, she just might be able to solve the case.

* * *

**AN/And now, we're at a cross-roads that I've been struggling with. Rest assured, Garcia will figure it out, but should she help JJ get away with it? Or turn in the woman that she had always thought of as a friend? You're suggestions would be GREATLY appreciated. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**_AN/Enjoy, or not. Whatever floats your boat. Looking over my current stories, I realized something that many of you may be thinking. However, I'd just like to clear up the little worry in the back of your mind-I am not a sociopath. I promise. Thanks for caring ;) _**

**_I thought I would try and finish this story before the season starts._**

**_Warnings: I don't own them._**

* * *

Derek shook his head softly as he nodded in the direction of the woman at the counter pulling lightly on the young boy's arm. He and JJ were taking a coffee break while they went through potential case files in the small town diner.

Picking up on Derek's sudden change of mood, JJ turned slowly to see what had caught his attention. "What's wrong Morgan?"

He shook his head again. Seeing the young boy shift his weight from foot to foot nervously, he sighed and reluctantly whispered, "That mom over there, I bet she's a foster mom."

"Yeah?" JJ asked, her interest piqued.

"Yeah." Derek said sadly. If there was only something he could do-but he would need something more than just a suspicion before he could report this woman to the authorities.

"And?" JJ prodded.

"See the way the kid's eyes dart around nervously. As if he's waiting for-" Derek trailed off, thinking that JJ didn't need to know what this boy would be afraid of.

Unfortunately, JJ knew too well. In fact, she admired Morgan for picking up on something she would have missed-only because her back was turned.

"He's either been abused in the past, or is being abused now."

"Well what can we do, can we call social services?" JJ asked, obliviously of how this actually worked. She knew there was a system of protocols-ones that if she wasn't a sociopath, she probably would have learned for her job.

As it was, she had little need for those particular protocols.

Derek grimaced. Seeing the woman raise her voice and the boy flinch nervously, Derek had enough. "Excuse me, Jayje."

"Derek, what are you going to do." JJ grabbed his arm in a weak attempt to stop him. She'd make sure this boy had justice soon enough.

"I may not be able to do anything, but I can certainly say something-she can't get away with this-"

"And you're going to make the situation worse?" JJ retorted, "So what happens when the boy goes home tonight and she beats him-or worse-for arousing suspicions. Face it, we have to trust the system."

Derek sighed and nodded resignedly, "Sometimes I hate being a profiler."

JJ smirked, feeling once more a sense of pride at her so-called friend. Though Derek Morgan didn't have it in him to follow her line of work, he was someone she respected.

And now, it was time to do him a favor.

"Come on," She smiled, picking up the case files strewn about the table in front of them, "we'll see if Chief Barrow has any insight."

* * *

JJ smirked as she saw the woman writhing against the restraints in the chair in front of her. "How does it feel?" She asked snidely, fingering the knife in her hands.

"Oomph" The woman screamed against the gag in her mouth, which only served to make JJ chuckle softly.

"It's different, isn't it? To be helpless-" She gently dragged the kife along the woman's exposed chest, leaving a small trail of blood in her wake. "To not be able to do anything to stop it," She put more pressure on the knife, causing it to cut more deeply. The woman yelped in pain, which only made JJ's smile brighten.

"But, because I'm feeling generous, I'll let you ask me a couple of last questions." She smiled generously, swiftly ripping the duct tape off the woman's mouth and pulling out the gag. "Now did you have a question for me?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" The woman cried pathetically. "Please, I'll do anything."

JJ snorted in derision, "Are you honestly going to tell me that you don't deserve it? After what you did to those boys? You were their _foster mother_."

Recognition dawned in the woman's eyes and she grimaced in disgust. "Those brats?" She asked, seeing JJ nod, the woman quickly changed tactics. "It wasn't my fault! They came on to me. I didn't have a choice."

Enraged, JJ slapped the woman hard, "They were seven years old!" She screamed, "You were supposed to be a mother."

"Please-" The woman begged, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Which is exactly why I'm here," JJ bent down and whispered in the woman's ear, "Because someone needs to take out the trash"

* * *

It was 2:30 in the morning before Penelope realized when she had seen the similar case.

She was pretty certain she was going to be sick.

_It can't be-there's no way!_

This really couldn't be happening.

Firing up the three laptops she kept at home, her fingers flew over the keys.

_"Chief of Police Robert Jareau was found dead in his barn Monday night. Authorities have concluded that his death was the result of a farm accident-funeral services will be held-"_

"No, no, no, no..." Garcia shook her head. "This can't be happening. There's no way this is happening."

Her fingers pounding the keys frantically-as if willing her electronic devices to change the information they were reporting-as information just kept coming.

JJ's dad died in 94.

Pennsylvania-34 victims, starting in 1998 and ending in 2004. Washington DC-41 victims, 2004-2006.

After that, numbered victims were popping up in individual cities-Boston; LA; New York; Kansas City, MO; small towns; large towns-all of them coinciding with BAU cases.

This couldn't be happening.

Something had to be wrong.

It just had to be.


	7. Chapter 7

**_AN/I again would like to assure you that I am not a sociopath. I promise. Thanks for caring ;) _**

**_I thought I would try and finish this story before the season starts._**

**_Warnings: I don't own them._**

* * *

Garcia paced frantically in her small one-bedroom apartment.

She believed in loyalty.

In fact, she had often prided herself on her loyalty-it was after all her best quality.

But this much loyalty?

Her best friend-_the mother of her godson_-could very well be a sociopathic killer.

Even for her, it was a little much.

She knew JJ had issues, they all did-but psycho serial killer issues? That was something she was completely unprepared for.

Dailing a familiar number, she bit her lip, hoping that she'd have some ability to get good old-fashioned advice from a man she trusted.

_"Hey Baby Girl, tell me you've got something." _Derek sighed into his phone. Penelope bit her lip, hesitant to add any more worry to her obviously over-stressed friend.

_"Garcia?" _He prodded.

"Derek, are you alone?"

_"No, I'm here with Rossi, Reid, Prentiss, and JJ. Why?"_

"It's about JJ." Penelope hedged.

_"Hey, just a minute guys..."_ Derek spoke to the other profilers and she could hear him step out of the room_. "Okay, I'm alone, what's up?"_

"Derek, I'm just really worried about her, I found a-"

_"Hold it right there Mama_." Derek stopped her_, "This case is hard for all of us, but especially JJ_."

"That's what I'm saying, Derek, I don't know how to say this but JJ's not who we think she is. I think-"

_"Did you know that her father was brutally murdered in front of her when JJ was only seventeen? I know you probably haven't looked at her file, but her mom disappeared a couple of years later and...Baby Girl, we've all got our issues." Derek informed Penelope with a sigh. "I know she wouldn't want me to tell you this, but JJ overcame a lot."_

"What do you mean, Derek?" She asked, her interest piqued.

_"If you really want to know, check and see if there is a CPS file. I'll bet there is. It would probably be sealed, but I'd bet you'd find JJ had a pretty horrible childhood."_

"How can you know that, have you read it?" Penelope asked doubtfully. Though this in no way changed what she had to tell Derek, she would be lying if she said she wasn't interested to learn more about the friend she now realized she had known almost nothing about.

_"I'm a profiler, Baby Girl."_ Derek sighed sadly, _"But trust me, it's pretty obvious when you know what you're looking for."_

"Thanks." Garcia poked her pen to the receiver to end the call. Her fingers flew over the keys in a furious attempt to prove her suspicions were false. Maybe it was a coincidence, or just some connection that she had somehow managed to imagine after a bad helping of coleslaw.

After all, this was JJ.

And JJ would never do something wrong.

At least, not _this_ wrong.

It didn't take her long to find a small file in the Child Protective Services database over 25 years old. As she cracked the encryption with ease, she momentarily thought that maybe she should donate her services to the federal government to tighten the security on their files. But now wasn't the time for thoughts of keeping other hackers out of decades old files.

Now, she needed to find information, _something_ that would let her know that her gut feeling was wrong.

Reading along quickly, Penelope's hand flew to her mouth in horror as she read the description of a small malnurished twelve year old who was barely alive. Words struck out at her like a freight train. _Lacerations. Brusing. Suspected long term abuse at the hands of her father._ Horror turned to disgust at the final words _"Investigation underway, information turned over to Chief of Police-Robert Jareau for further followup."_

"No way." Penelope shook her head in shock. _They turned their suspicions over to JJ's **father**? _But he was her abuser!

Feeling sick to her stomach, she quickly accessed JJ's medical files, only to feel her nasuea grow as she looked over the long list of tests and treatments that suggested JJ's father had indeed taken care of the problem.

Because there was not another entry in JJ's CPS file.

But there were plenty more hospital visits.

"How could someone have missed this?" Penelope murmured in horror. But the more she looked, the more she realized that her first theory may just be correct.

Her very best friend in the entire world might just be a deranged serial killer.

But what was even more terrifying, was that Penelope could sort of understand.

And that thought was even more horrifying than uncovering JJ's secret life.

* * *

JJ smiled as she sipped her coffee, pretending not to notice the concerned look Derek cast her as he reentered the room. Last night had been an effective release from the stress she had been feeling, especially since she knew that bitch would never hurt another child again.

Hotch grimaced and stormed into the room of profilers. "We have a new victim, Michelle Richardson. Rossi and Reid I need you at the scene, but we have a problem." Hotch grimly sat down in the chair at the head of the conference table and tossed a file at the group.

"He's devolving." Rossi rubbed his forehead wearily.

"The attacks are getting closer together." Reid agreed.

"Wait a minute." Derek rubbed the back of his head as he looked over the report the police had provided on the woman's identity. "I-JJ and I-we JUST SAW this lady."

"Really? When?" JJ asked oblivioulsy, picking up the file though she already knew what it would say.

"That lady in the diner." Derek shook his head sadly. "Maybe if I had done something-If we could have arrested her..." He trailed off as he looked at the crime scene photos that showed blood splattered along an empty warehouse.

"Oh." JJ tried to make herself sound like she too was horrified at the revelation. If she hadn't been doing this whole "double life" thing for years, it might have been difficult.

Now, it was almost natural.

Almost.

"Get Garcia on the line. Morgan, Prentiss, and I will stay here and work on victimology." Hotch sighed.

"Hotch?" Emily asked, looking up from the file in front of her. "Was there any trace evidence?"

Hotch shook his head. "CSU is still looking, but it looks like every other scene."

"What are you thinking Prentiss?" Derek asked having long ago caught on to the way Emily's brain worked. She'd ask questions in an attempt to discredit her hypothesis until she was left with the only logical conclusion.

"I think we're looking for someone in law enforcement." Emily looked around to gauge her theory's reception. "Think about it, forensics are almost nonexistent. He manages to subdue them without arising suspicion."

Hotch nodded thoughtfully and dropped his voice in a conspiratorial whisper. "For now, everyone outside of this room is a suspect."

JJ had to fight with surprising effort the grin that threatened to explode at Hotch's command.

No one even suspected her.


	8. Chapter 8

**_AN/ I know, you thought I forgot about this story. NOPE. UPDATED :) Sorry to any of you that checked this when it was first posted only to find a weird chapter that didn't belong. Woops._**

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JJ turned her head to the side, effectively cracking her own neck and relieving the stress that had built up along her vertebrae.

Somedays, it just felt so good to be her.

Filling up her coffee mug in the precinct break room, she cringed as she heard a detective behind her curse softly under his breath. "Stupid idiotic kid." He murmured.

JJ turned around, fighting the anger that welled within her, "a bad case?" She asked, feigning understanding.

Inwardly, her heart lurched with excitement at the prospect of a new victim.

"My daughter." The Detective rolled his eyes. "Just as worthless as her mother. Sadie will probably grow up to be a whore just like her too."

JJ's eyes sparkled as she inwardly applauded herself for finding another deserving target.

Because no child should be made to feel worthless.

_"Mom?" The nineteen year old asked nervously as she entered the house. __Somedays she wished she didn't have to ever come home from school. _

_But if she didn't come home, Brady would have to deal with her all by himself._

_If she thought she wouldn't arouse suspicion, she would have taken care of her own mother years ago._

_She already took care of her father._

_It was more important that she didn't step a toe out of line that would bring attention to herself._

_Damn._

_If she could only figure out a way to get Brady away from her mom, maybe they could be normal._

_But for now, it was more important she be there to protect her brother._

_And keep up the facade of the small-town soccer player living the perfect life._

_If only people knew._

_"Mom?" JJ asked again, surprised to see the recliner where her mom drank away her life unoccupied. Normally, her mom was so drunk she could barely see straight._

_"You're back?" Her mom stepped around the corner from the kitchen. "What, did they kick you out of school?"_

_"No." JJ bit the inside of her cheek in an effort to keep the smart remark in, because even if her mom wasn't as physically imposing as her father had been, she still had a mean right hook. "School ended for the day. I came back to check on Brady."_

_"Shame we couldn't ship you off to some work camp." Her mom muttered, picking up her keys. "Then maybe you'd at least be worth something instead of being an eighteen year old leech."_

_"Where are you going?" JJ asked, choosing to ignore the comment that chipped away at what little was left of her desire for motherly approval._

_After all, she hadn't ever really received motherly affections, why should that start mattering now?_

_She was a senior in high school now, years of criticism and abuse hadn't made her needy. _

_Who needed a mother anyway?_

_"The store." Her mom rolled her eyes as if it was the most annoying question in the world. "You'd better come with me because I don't trust leaving you here by yourself."_

_JJ glowered inwardly, incensed at the accusation she couldn't take care of herself for an hour. _

_After all, she'd been taking care of their entire family for years, and **now** her mom didn't trust her alone?_

_What about the nights where her mom was passed out on the couch from the booze?_

_Or when she didn't come home for days on end because she found some unsuspecting bastard to spend the week with?_

_"Fine." JJ growled, following her mom out the door to the car._

_It wasn't until her mom drifted into oncoming traffic for the third time that JJ was struck with the horrifying realization. "Are you drunk?" She asked incredulously._

_"What does it matter?" Her mom slurred. _

_JJ slapped herself mentally, wondering how she had missed the signs._

_"Pull over." She shouted._

_"Don't talk back to me you brat." Her mother retorted, swerving back into the correct lane of traffic._

_"Pull over or you're going to kill us!" JJ cried, grabbing the wheel in an attempt to save not only herself, but everyone else on the road, from her mother's recklessness. _

_In the struggle to obtain control, neither woman was prepared for the patch of ice that sent the car careening off the road and crashing into a nearly frozen pond._

That was the day Jennifer Jareau became an orphan.

The same day she had gained unfettered freedom.

JJ snapped herself from the memory and quickly scribbled down the address of an abandoned warehouse just outside of DC. Handing the card over to the detective who had long-forgotten her presence, JJ smiled brightly. "A tip came in from an anonymous caller. I was going to give it to my team first, but I thought you might want to see it." She twirled her hair, inwardly reeling with gleeful joy as the detective bought her dim-witted routine hook, line, and sinker.

Some days, it just felt good to be her.

Especially when she was ridding the world of monsters.

"Of course I want to see it." The detective grumbled as the detective snatched the paper from her hands. "An informant? Or just an empty warehouse?"

JJ bit her lip, carefully weighing her options. She wanted to get him in the right place at the right time for simple convenience.

Because while she _could_ figure out a way to lug his dead weight around, she was smart enough to figure out ways around that.

After all, her team had just referred to her as a 'killing machine'.

She kind of liked that title-even if it was directed at a sociopathic killer that the team was trying to profile.

"An informant." She decided, knowing full well where she could hide that the detective would never see her coming out of the shadows and would allow her to inject him with a full dose of sedative in order to have her nightly mission be successful. "He wanted you to meet him inside at 7:00. He said he would only talk to you."

"That's the way _real_ police do their job." The detective informed her snottily. JJ didn't bother to point out that she was handing him the information and that if this tip were even remotely real it would be the sole fruits of the BAU's efforts.

It drove her crazy when cops acted like the BAU did nothing but complicate their investigation.

Because even if she was a sociopath, she was still a team player.

Just a team player that had a gorey side-job on her off hours.

Really, it was completely justifiable.

"Should I tell my team you need backup?" She asked with doe eyes, chuckling inwardly as he looked at her like she was incapable of comprehending the vast complications of police work.

It _was_ protocol for her to tell the team.

Hell, she _outranked_ him. There was no reason for her to ask his opinion, according to protocol.

But protocols generally meant nothing when you were dealing with chauvanistic, emotionally abusive officers.

"I've got this girly." The detective replied. "Thanks."

_Thank you._ JJ replied mentally, almost giddy as she picked up her phone. Punching out a text to Will that read - - _Sorry, working late tonight. See you at home_- - she fought the urge not to whistle a happy tune as she returned to the conference room where the team frantically focused on trying to find the serial killer.

Her.

Some days, it just felt good to be Jennifer Jareau.

* * *

Garcia watched as JJ fidgeted with muted excitement.

If she hadn't been cataloguing her best friend's every move, she might have missed it.

But sitting next to her for hours after joining the team to give them immediate access to her technical prowess had let Garcia monitor JJ's every move.

JJ was _excited._

Normally, this would make Penelope just as excited as she interrogated her friend to spill the juicy details of whatever her evening plans entailed.

But now...a sickening feeling of dread accompanied the thought of what JJ did in her free time.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Hotch was standing just ouside the door, talking to Chief Barrow while the other profilers chased down leads Garcia was pretty certain would lead to nowhere.

"So what's got you all fidgety?" Penelope asked conversationally.

She watched as JJ's face fell, as if startled at somebody noticing her, but was quickly masked with a wide grin. "Henry's been talking like crazy lately, I-I don't know, I just can't wait to get home."

"Go Home." Hotch's kind soft voice floated from the doorway where he had evidently caught the tail end of JJ's reply, well aware of what it was like to miss out on tender moments with family. "We can finish up here for tonight and see you in the morning."

Penelope's eyes narrowed as she watched JJ hum excitedly while the blonde picked up her belongings.

Something was up.

And Garcia couldn't rest until she knew for sure.


	9. Chapter 9

**_AN/ It's finished. Thanks to SignedSealedWritten and brynnifer for reading this over for me. And to femvamp for giving me the challenge though it took forever to finish._****_

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Penelope Garcia was torn.

She sat in her car, trying to raise the courage to face her greatest fears.

_Could her best friend seriously be a bad bad girl?_

After the information she had seen, it was a possibility.

But maybe, maybe this was like Fringe and her JJ had been swapped by an alternate reality's "badass JJ".

Even she wasn't sure that was possible.

Though if it was, it would certainly explain a lot—

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Jumping out of the car lest her reservations hold her back, she snuck into the warehouse that she had seen JJ and some other man enter a few minutes earlier.

After all, what could transpire in only ten minutes?

* * *

JJ grinned as the police officer in front of her fought against the bindings that held him down into the chair.

"You know," she mused, "I've only taken care of a couple of officers, but it's always rewarding."

The man humphed behind the duct tape that sealed his mouth shut.

"But you'd be surprised at the research I can pull up in just a couple of hours." JJ gracefully traced the line of his jaw with the .38 she had managed to steal from the precinct's evidence locker. "Because you, _officer_, are not a good man."

"JJ!" a horrified voice gasped, causing the blonde to spin around in surprise. "What—"

JJ blinked, like a child caught with her hand in the candy jar, uncertain of how to explain.

"I—"

The two women stood there, oblivious to the man who pulled at the restraints that had him bound.

"Hotch and the team are on their way." Garcia admitted softly, "They'll be here in twenty minutes."

"You don't understand—" JJ tried to explain, "this man—if you knew what he'd done."

"I know." Garcia stepped toward JJ, glancing at the man in the chair with disgust. "I saw you both come inside and I ran a search on Detective Rogers. I know."

JJ's face fell. "And you called Hotch?"

"I told him you had a lead, that I followed you to a warehouse. Like I said, they're twenty minutes out." Looking down at her watch, she amended quickly, "nineteen now."

JJ hesitated, somehow surprised that the thought of eliminating Garcia as a witness hadn't yet crossed her mind. Normally, protecting her identity was the most important thing in the world.

But silencing Garcia was out of the question.

And for once, it felt so good to just be honest.

To be real.

The mask melted away as JJ fought to explain. "I couldn't let him get away with it. Some things—"

"Need to be done." Penelope nodded with understanding, stepping closer to JJ. "But JJ, taking the law into your own hands—"

"Penelope," JJ whispered, stunned as a foreign feeling overcame her. Wetness sprang to her eyes and she fought uncharacteristically to keep herself in control. "You don't understand—"

"Jennifer Jareau, 34." Penelope recited, not from memory but from heart. "The kindest, best woman I've ever known."

"Garcia—" JJ tried to stop her, her voice catching with emotion at the thought of betraying a woman who seemed to see the best in the world.

"Your father was abusive." Penelope continued empathy radiating from her as she slowly closed the gap between them. "He hurt you." Penelope could see the doubt in her friend's eyes and forced herself to vaguely disclose the details she was certain JJ tried to bury. "Physically, Emotionally, Sexually." JJ winced as the last word was spoken and Garcia couldn't help the tears that streamed down her face.

JJ too was unusually overcome with emotions. She wiped at her eyes, embarrassed at a sudden display of emotion.

She had more control than this.

She did.

She wasn't weak.

"It's not—"

"Your sister killed herself because she wanted to get away from it." Penelope hypothesized, biting her lip as her suggestion seemed to strike JJ with physical force. "But she left you—"

"And Brady." JJ nodded, her head hung in defeat as a rare expression of true vulnerability broke through her carefully constructed facade.

"You tried to protect him, Brady, your little brother. And for a while, you were the only one your father hit. For a while it was just you and you could handle it. But then your father beat your brother and that was the last straw. You killed your father to stop it." Garcia continued without a trace of judgment or reproach in her voice.

Only love.

For the first time since JJ could remember, emotions swelled within her, bubbling over as she tried to force them back down into the hole where she had locked away her emotions for years.

"But your mother wasn't much better." Penelope continued. "She hurt you, not with bruises, but she hurt your soul."

She was broken. That was the only way JJ could explain what she was feeling. Her entire life, the grotesque secrets she had fought to hide from the world for so long had just been laid out for all to see.

And it didn't hurt as much as she thought it would.

"You started finding people—bad, awful people—and made them suffer for hurting people that couldn't fight back." Garcia surmised, frowning as the soft sounds of sirens began to call out in the distance.

"Some things are necessary," JJ shrugged, holding out the gun for Penelope to remove it from her hands.

There was a time where an unsuspecting witness would have been collateral damage.

But she couldn't do that to Garcia.

"Let him go JJ." Penelope pled.

"Do you know what he did?" JJ asked lividly, "His daughter, she—"

"JJ, you need to let him go. Hotch is going to be here any second."

"I can't—"

"You can!" Penelope promised, taking the gun from JJ's hands and wrapping her arms securely around the blonde, realizing just how deeply JJ needed someone to care.

She just needed someone to care about her.

"You are the strongest person I know." Penelope assured. She sighed, knowing what she was about to do was the wrong thing.

But this was JJ.

She pulled away, mystified as to how she could have been so oblivious to the aching need JJ had to feel loved. "You let him go, you don't do this anymore, and I—"

"This is who I am." JJ muttered, unable to comprehend a life without her greater mission.

"It's not!" The sirens were getting louder and louder, and now it was only minutes before Hotch would burst into this warehouse and see the truth in front of his eyes.

But truth was misleading.

Because while JJ might have hurt people, they were bad people.

Truth seemed to have a lot more grey than black and white.

But Hotch, Derek, Emily...none of them would be able to see past the man tied to a chair with a gun pointed at him.

At some point, Penelope wouldn't have been able to either.

But this was _JJ._

"Let him go JJ." Garcia ordered, "Leave this behind, start over."

"I—"

"I'll help you to start over. But you have to let him go. You can't do this anymore. But I'll help you JJ. I'll help you be normal."

Seconds, that felt like hours, past while JJ looked into Garcia's eyes. Envisioning this moment, she had always expected Penelope's eyes to be filled with harsh judgment and disgust at who JJ really was.

Instead, all she saw was acceptance.

"But JJ, if you do this ever again. I will tell Hotch. I will—" Garcia let her threat trail off as JJ nodded slowly, aware that Penelope would hesitatingly follow through on her promise. "But let him go."

Slowly, JJ nodded and turned toward her captive. Undoing the padded restraints, designed to leave no mark on live—or dead—bodies, she ripped the tape off the Detective's mouth. "You can go" She ordered softly.

"You think I'm just going to let you walk out of here?" The Detective rubbed his mouth. "Its you! You're going to prison for a long time." He threatened as he stumbled out of the chair.

"Just go home." Penelope warned, not bothering to look in his direction as she kept her eyes focused on JJ.

The detective grumbled, walking past JJ who turned away as she tried to juggle her emotions. "I'll find a way to pin this on you Agent Jareau."

"Go to hell." Garcia ground out angrily. While killing people was wrong, even Penelope Garcia could make an exception for this man.

Neither woman anticipated the Detective lunging toward Garcia, quickly wrestling the gun out of the tech's hand. "You first." He muttered into Penelope's ear.

"Drop it." JJ commanded, whipping her service weapon out from behind her back.

"I've got you now, Agent Jareau." Detective Rodgers sneered, "And I'll be lauded for throwing you in prison."

"Please, don't do this. You can go." Penelope begged, flashbacks of the shooting that happened years ago flooding to her mind.

"Or," The Detective pointed the gun at Garcia's temple, "When the FBI gets here, they find the bodies of two of their own. Agent Jareau, here, overcome by guilt and realizing a genius detective was on her trail, lured the detective here and killed her unsuspecting friend who got in the way." Detective Rogers mused. "I rather like the sound of that."

"Please—" Garcia cried. "Don't do this."

The Detective's fingers twitched, signalling his intent.

JJ didn't hesitate before pulling the trigger, her bullet finding its expert mark directly between the eyes of the man that she had just let go.

Because now he was threatening Garcia.

And Penelope, Penelope Garcia was good.

Only as Detective Rodger's body hit the floor was JJ aware that Hotch and the others had burst into the warehouse.

"It's over." She promised Garcia, dropping her weapon as she walked out of the warehouse, leaving the rest of the team stunned in her wake.

* * *

"It was a good shoot." Hotch comforted JJ, sliding into the back seat of the car. "It looks like Detective Rogers has been committing these murders for years. Had we not caught him preparing for his next victim, we might never have caught him."

JJ's eyebrows shot up and she looked to see Garcia biting her fingernail nervously.

Garcia had just lied.

To Hotch.

For _her._

"It was a good shoot." Hotch affirmed once more. "You did good work."

JJ sighed. It would be all too easy to continue her life of crime, all she would need to do is be careful and make sure Penelope didn't catch on.

But she had promised.

"I quit." The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them.

"Excuse me?"

"I can't do this anymore." Though Hotch didn't know the truth, for the first time in JJ's life, someone had seen her for what she truly was and _understood_. "I made a promise. I'll have my letter of Resignation on your desk in the morning."

"JJ—"

"Hotch." JJ shook her head, certain this was what needed to happen. "It's time I try my hand at this whole motherhood thing. I'm not so good at it now. But maybe if I practice—" JJ's words trailed off as she contemplated the life of a model citizen that awaited her.

She really wasn't good at being a model citizen.

Or a suburban housewife.

But maybe, just maybe, she could get better if she practiced.

Because while some things were needful...

others were more promising.


End file.
